


Sorry’s and I Love You’s

by TheAngelofFate



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (2012-2013), Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Batfamily (DCU) Feels, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Men Crying, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Bruce Wayne, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27442540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAngelofFate/pseuds/TheAngelofFate
Summary: After Dick practically dumps Tim and Carrie on him to go hang out with Babs, needing a break from their rambunctious siblings. Jason is left with nothing to do but take them out on patrol with him. Where things start off good, but then go from bad to worst real quick.Or Jason babysits Tim and Carrie and ends up getting buried alive again
Relationships: Carrie Kelley & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 11
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A little backstory on this, I had previously written this years ago but since I have recently decided to rewrite most of what I wrote and post it on your as a long four chapter type of deal. It’s not the best I’ve ever written but it’s here regardless.

_Gotham City, 10:20 p.m:_

Jason was loosing his patience. Not that he was ever sure he had any to begin with but he was damn sure that if he had, Dick wasn't helping in that department.

Currently, Dick was asking him a favor. A favor that Jason did _not_ have time for. "C'mon, Jay! Help me out, I need a break from them."

Jason rolled his eyes at Dick and went back to polishing his pistols. "Doth my ears deceive me? Is the great Richard Grayson, the golden child of the Batman himself, asking me to take his place in watching his siblings? While he goes on a date with my future sister in law?"

Dick whined and looked like he was ready to ripe his hair out. "Jay..."

Jason smirked, feeling satisfied, accomplished. "I thought you loved us, _big bro_? What happened? We too much for you?"

Dick narrowed his eyes in a glare that didn't quite reach the emotion in his eyes of being angry. More frustrated. "I do, _you know_ I do. But..." Dick paused for a moment to probably gather his thoughts and find the right words. "Tim is seventeen. He doesn't need me to entertain him just cause he can't go hang out with the team." Dick ran a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's Carrie that I need a break from— I love her to death but she's... _she's too clingy_. I never had to deal with you or Tim being that way. I practically had to use the jaws of life to pray her off my leg. The jaws of life, Jay."

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Aw, your nerves shot from a nine year old girl? Forget it, Dickhead. I don't have time for your whining. I have patrol—"

"Take them with you—"

Jason let out a hollowed laugh, "You know I didn't believe Babs when she told me you had a sense of humor but guess I was wrong."

Dick rolled his eyes, looking exasperated. "C'mon, it's not like it would be your first time, you've done it multiple times already—"

Jason slammed his locked pistols on his table, he couldn't even believe they were having this argument. "Yeah, but I always had either you or Bruce there with me." The former Robin looked at his worn, creaky, floor boards. "Dammit, why _me_!? Why can't you get Bruce or Alfred? _Someone_ else more trustworthy, because if something goes wrong—" He stopped and bit the inside of his cheek, feeling agitated. "I don't trust myself to keep them safe."

A hand fell on his shoulder, it was meant to be comforting, but Jason brushed it off regardless. "Jay, we love you. We trust you. You know that."

The younger nodded, feeling grateful that he has a family that is so forgiving. "Yes, I know you do, but as I said: I don't, I _can't_."

" _Jason_..."

He had to repress a groan from escaping him. _Great..._ Dick's voice sounded strained, suddenly filled to the brim with guilt that always bubbled to the surface whenever a topic like this came up.

Where was Deathstroke around when he needed him? Jason rather that asshole appear out of the shadows like the ninja he was —regardless if he denied it— looking for a fight, looking to kill for profit off of one of they're deaths then have to deal with this conversation with big brother Dick.

Jason sighed, running a hand through the white tuff and down the back of his neck.

This is _not_ what he wanted to be discussing with his brother. But if it would get Dick to get off his back, if it would get him to leave Jason the fuck alone and stop whining. " _Fine_. I'll take Tim and Carrie off your hands for today. I can understand that we all need a break once in a while. Just don't make this a habit."

Suddenly Jason felt his head being squished when a thick arm wrapped around his skull and squeezed. "Thanks, Little Wing. I owe you one."

He pried himself away from Dick's arm. "Damn right, you do."

* * *

"Robin." Jason snapped out annoyingly to the child who was sitting on the ledge, vigorously jumping up and down. " _Keep still_ , dammit."

Carrie looked at him and gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, sir. But it's _freezing_ out here." Jason finally looked in Carrie's direction and realized that unlike his and the rest of their family. Carrie's suit was without pants, sleeves, and heat warmers.

Regardless, Jason merely shrugged, "Hey, I tried to tell you that you should have just _asked_ for a new design, Alfred would have happily made you a new one, but instead you settle with Nightwing's old uniform."

"Wait now..." Tim interjected, with a click of his tongue. "If I remember _correctly_. You wore the same suit for the first few years."

Jason was glad his helmet covered his face because he was pretty damn sure his face was red with embarrassment, "That was different. I was a kid."

Tim laughed, and Jason had the urge to smack him if he wasn't so far away. "Yeah, a kid who was honoring Dick's memory as Robin because you _admired_ him. Just like _I_ admired you. And styled my suite after you. And just like Carrie is modeling it after all of us." Jason let out a small noise of embarrassment and pride before Tim turned his attention to Carrie, "Regardless, he's right, Car. Nothing wrong with having a new suite tailored for you." Red Robin stated calmly, with a gentle smile. "When we get back home, just ask Alfred. He'll be more then happy to."

Carrie nodded. Her cheeks tinted red from either the cold or embarrassment, Jason couldn't tell. "Noted, sirs."

Red Hood turned his head when he heard voices coming from down below. "There's our target." Jason announced to the two of them. And pointed to farthest man of the left. " _Hansel Muknar_. Barbara and I have been digging intell on this guy for months. He's been selling illegal crates filled with faulty kevlar vests and sniper rifles to cops, marines and FBI all around the world." He explained carefully, giving them what info him and Babs managed to find.

"Is there a reason why he's doing this?" Robin asked as her tone of voice took a note of puzzlement. Red Hood scoffed and placed a hand on top of her ginger hair.

"Kid, with guys like Hansel, Penguin, and Two Face, there is no goodreason for why they do the crazy, fucked up shit that they do... They're "reasoning" and ours are two completely different things." Jason told her as he gazed at the twenty allies Hansel had guarding him and five more men unloading the faulty guns and vest out of the truck.

"We need to take these guy out now, Hood." Tim's voice changing into his ' _Red Robin_ ' voice. "If we don't then the GCPD cops are as good as dead."

Red Robin, his Bo Staff at the ready, waited for Jason's command.

Jason let out a deep breathe, this was only suppose to be a recon patrol, but Tim was right as always, cracking his knuckles he stood up from his perched position. "Let's get to it then," He spoke out and leaped off the building and kicked one gang member in the face.

It was an all out brawl after that. Like a scene from the movies. Only thing was. There was no cameras, no stunt doubles, no fake martial arts.

Just Jason, his skills and his little brother and sister by his side.

The second oldest yelled out as he back flipped onto another man's back and kicked him in the crotch. Taking out one of his pistols he swiftly shot another in the ankle. "Take it easy, Hood." Red Robin called out to him as the seventeen year old fought against three other members of Hansel's crew. "Let's restrain from putting holes in people, okay?"

"Relax, feathers." Jason grunted out as someone hit him in the back of the shoulder blade. Using the butt of his gun, he knocked him out. "Rubber bullets, remember?" Honestly, did he think I still used real ones!? He thought to himself as he kicked another guy on the side of his head.

Out of the corner of his eye Jason saw Muknar making a break for it in all the chaos.

_Shit!_

"Feathers, Robin! Hansel's getting away!"

Carrie turned and saw Hansel running, she tossed a man with a knife into a some trash cans. "I got him, sir!" She announced to Jason not even giving him a chance to reply as she began chasing after the man. Jason's eyes widened as he watched her go.

In an instant there was a flash of a memory. Jason saw himself dressed in his Robin suit running after the Joker towards the warehouse—

He had a sinking feeling, this sense of dread in the deepest pit of his stomach, that if Carrie went alone in pursuing Muknar, that she'd end up like him. _Dead, broken and bloody._ And he refused to let another kid die because of how they all lived.

Seventeen was bad enough, no way they were adding ten years old to their list.

Bending low to the ground, he performed a spin kick in midair on four of their attackers, making contact with their faces, knocking them all to the ground, disoriented. "Red Robin! I'm going after the short-stake. Think you can handle the rest of these assholes?"

Tim actually laughed at his words. "Of course I can! Go help Robin!"

Red Hood nodded and bolted after their little sister.

He ran a crossed the rooftops, his heart beating a mile a minute. The longer Carrie stayed gone, and the longer it took him to try and find her, the more the pit in his gut grew. Jason was starting to panic, his palms were sweating and he bit his lower lip. His anxiety spiking to an all time high and no matter how many times he tried to rationalized that Robin handle herself, that she was going to be fine and Jason was just being an overprotective big brother, it wasn't going away.

And it wouldn't go away until he found the girl.

Then, about two miles down Gotham's worst neighborhood —the part where crime was the worst, where the buildings were falling apart and the ground was just dirt— he saw her.

Carrie, along with Hansel seemed to be wrestling inside one of Gotham's abandoned buildings, the both of them struggled to gain the upper hand and from the looks of where Jason was standing, Carrie looked to be losing. Using his grappling hook, Jason glided and delivered a hard kick to Muknar's face, causing him to fall to the floor.

"Kid, you okay?" He asked as he offered a hand to help Carrie up but she struggle away looking very scared and frantic. Jason was confused and also a little hurt. Why was she afraid of him so suddenly? "Robin, what's—"

Carrie hopped on her feet, eyes widen with fear. "Sir, Muknar has a detonator!"

Everything after that seemed to go in slow motion.

Jason's reaction to his sister's words were delayed, it was... it was like his brain and heart skipped a beat at the word _detonator_ , simultaneously.

He hesitated, only for a split second but it was enough to give Hansel enough time to com up behind him and strike Jason in the back of the head with a blunt object, cracking his helmet in two and sent him flying to the ground a few feet away.

"Sir!" Jason heard Carrie's cries, heard her try and go to his aid but he was too dazed to move. His skull throbbed and his body remained unresponsive.

 _C'mon, Todd. Move!_ He berated himself, trying desperately to even move an inch. _Fucking move goddammit!_

But he stayed in the same crumpled rag doll-like position, as if he was rooted to the spot.

The ground started shaking.

Distantly, he felt someone grab his arm and attempted to haul his limp body up. "Sir!" Robin's cries cut through the roaring in his ears and around them. " _Red Hood_ , we have to go!" Jason blinked at Carrie's tone, commanding and urgent, just like Bruce, and that made him blinked hard, casting away the haze until his vision cleared and he saw her face, she looked so frightened. Her face, her expression betrayed the tone in her voice.

Turning his throbbing head, Jason finally understood why—

The building they were in was now engulfed in flames. Chunks of cemented ceiling and wooden frames were making there way down to the ground below. But by some miracle, some weird chance of fate. The upper building was somehow still standing and as Jason moved to stand on shaky legs, everything around them groaned, snapped and cracked at the seams.

If they stayed here any longer, they were going to be buried alive under pounds of cemented walls and wooden ceilings.

_Shit!_

They'd be stuck underground for hours waiting to be rescued and by then it might be too late. One of the support beams snapped a little deeper and one side of the building fell with an abrupt collapse filled with dust and sparks emitted from the blaze.

Jason bolted upright, adrenaline kicking in he grabbed Robin by her uniform and tossed her over his shoulder, he glanced at an unconscious Hansel angrily for a second then Jason repeated the process with him.

Two more support beams snapped in two and Jason started running.

His pace was sluggish and clumsy, but he kept going even if his head and body was telling him to stop, even if he ached all over he had to get them out, he had to get Carrie out of danger. A chunk of building fell in Jason's path to freedom, causing him to lose his balance at the abruptness and fall to one knee.

" _Robin_!" The frantic and desperate calls of Tim rang out in the distances. " _Hood_! Get out of there!"

But it was no use, they were out of time.

It took a split second, just a single second for him to think, for him to make a decision. Using what strength was left in his arms, Jason threw the nine year old and Hansel to safety.

" _JASON_!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I was gonna save this chapter until later in the evening, to give anyone a chance to read the first chapter more, but since everyone has been so nice and wanting another fast update, I decided to post the next chapter to this.

"Welcome home, Master Bruce." Alfred stated to the billionaire as he walked into Wayne Manor and set down his briefcase. "I hope your meeting in Metropolis went well?"

Bruce nodded to his most loyal friend, his father figure and smiled. The meeting with some co-workers in Meltropolis had been very successful, they were now hosting three more fundraisers and the playboy Mr. Wayne would be attending them all in a month or so. "Yes, I believe so. Though when Lois kept asking me to dinner after the conference I had to deal with Clark's angry stares the whole way to my car."

Alfred hummed, understanding how their Kryptonian friend can be when it came to the woman he secretly loved, so very dearly. "I see, but I imagine Mr. Kent's were no match for Batman's?" He commented and gave the man a smile filled with pride.

Bruce chuckled and started making his way up the stairs, Alfred following him close behind. "Of course." He stated, the tone of his voice held smugness. Once Clark started to give him those ' _stay-away-from-my-girl_ ' glares, Bruce immediately retaliated with one of his own, he gave his close friend one of the very stares he constantly gives the psychopaths and muggers in his city, that very ones that sent shivers down their spines.

And the Dark Knight could only smiled in satisfaction as he slyly adjusted his tie when Clark's glare disappeared from his face in literal seconds, being replaced with widened eyes and turned away, looking rather embarrassed.

What were friends for if not to embarrass the other?

Making several turns, Bruce made his way towards the Grandfather clock in his study, a smirk quirked against the edges of his mouth before it faded into a serious expression

Now his real work began.

Before the meeting started, Dick had called to inform him that Jason would be taking Tim and Carrie out on patrol with him while he followed a lead that him and Barbara had been tracking for sometime. At first, Bruce was rather ashamed to admit that he had been a little worried. Not to say that he didn't trust Jason's ability to watch over his siblings, after all he and Jason were just starting to make things right with each other.

He trusted his second eldest completely, with his life and with the lives of this family.

But he couldn't help but worry whenever his children went out on patrol without him around, his blood pressure still raises whenever Dick patrols in Blüdhaven.

Alfred pinned it on fatherly instincts and Bruce couldn't help but agree.

His parental _need_ to know that all his children were safe and sound and out of danger. But Dick assured him that Jason would keep an eye on both Tim and Carrie. That this patrol was just that— _a patrol_ , Barbara even called him and informed him herself that before he had agreed to take Tim and Carrie along that this patrol was simply a recon mission in gathering more intell.

Taking a breath, he forced himself to calm down.

"Master Jason should be arriving with Master Tim and Miss Carrie any time now." Alfred commented as they both descended the stone staircase that lead down into the Batcave, giving Bruce his own words of reassurance.

Bruce let out a hum of understanding and sat down in front of the bat computer to look over the file Oracle had sent to him.

> _Hansel Muknar_
> 
> _Responsible for several death via faulty manufactured Kevlar and sniper rifles to cops, marines and FBI all around the world.  
>  _

He needed to be stopped, his company needed to be exposed and brought down.

While he scrolled over the files a noise popped up on his computer.

It was one he was all too familiar with.

It was his personal contact to his direct network he created years ago, a network Oracle has long since improved.

Someone was trying to get into contact him.

Pressing one of the buttons, immediately accepting the call, Bruce went into —as Dick describes it— _Batman_ mode. Answering the call with a gruff, "Hello?"

At first there was nothing on the other end. And it didn't take long for him to think of the worst and that someone hacked into their network. Voice made of steel, and gravel. He demanded with his deepest of glares. "Who is this?"

Finally, a noise, static popped on the other end. " _Bruce—?_ "

Immediately he recognized the voice. "Red Robin?" He tone of voice dropped in seconds as he heard his third child on the other end of their secure network. Tim was the smart people he knew. In more ways, in many ways, he was far smarter and by far a better detective then Bruce ever was.

But Tim's voice was filled with such a deep rooted fear and guilt as he spoke Bruce's name which in of itself was a cause for concern because Tim was never the type to address him as such over communications, as a precaution in case they were hacked. "What's wrong?"

There was a pause on the other end, a hesitation that left the Caped Crusader feeling more uneasy. " _You need to come to The Bowery. Somethings— somethings happened and you need to get here now."_

Bruce's heart clenched. Thinking the worst almost instantly. "Robin?" He asked fearing the answer.

_"She's fine."_

Batman exhale a breathe he hadn't realized he'd been holding when Tim spoke those words. Thank god, she's alright. He thought relieved. " _But_ —" Red Robin released a shaky breathe.

The Dark Knight waited patiently for his son to continue.

_"But Jason isn't."_

His entire world seemed to caved in at those three words. Like the ground he was standing on seemed to disappear and he was falling into an abyss of past trauma and grief. In an instant Bruce was transported back to all those years ago.

Where he raced against the clock to get to his son, heart pounding in his ears as the guilt set like knives deep in his chest, he shouldn't have let this happened. He shouldn't have let Jason go alone. But he, stubbornly refused to accept it, he was going to save Robin, get to him in time like he always had.

But he didn't

Because there hadn't been enough time. In Bruce's case there was never enough time. His parents, Jason, he could have save them but as he held his son's burnt and bloody form in his arms, he realized that time was never going to be on his side.

Bruce was standing by that point, he didn't even remember moving to his feet until he heard the _clang_! of the chair hitting the ground below. The haze of trauma from Jason's passing and resurrection consuming him.

_Black Mask_

_The Joker_

_Red Hood,_

_Jason asking him to kill Joker._

It all cultivated into a mesh of memories that always left him aching and exhausted and ashamed. He was so far deep into those bad memories that he almost didn't hear what Tim said next.

" _We ended up fighting the guy— Hansel and his men instead of doing recon— Bruce, it's my fault! I was the one who... who told Jason we needed to take them down to save the cops, to save Jim— and Jason..."_ There was a choked noise on the other end and Tim all but shouted his next words, hysteria nearing its peak and racked with guilt, _"Bruce, this is my fault... I shouldn't have—"_

" _Shh_ , breathe, Tim. _Breathe_ and tell me what happened next." Bruce tried to soothe the boy, tried to calm him. He heard Tim intake a deep breath before continuing.

 _"Carrie chased after the man Jason had been tracking in one of the run down buildings in the Bowery. The man— Hansel found one of the old mine detonators—"_ Tim hesitated for a few moments. _"He was able to get Carrie out, even Hansel... But the bomb went off, the building collapsed and Jason—"_ Again Red Robin paused to collect a deep breathe.

_"Dad, Jason's trapped down there."_

At the knowledge that Jason, his son who crawled out of his own grave, was now buried under tons and tons of building, most probably in complete darkness. His world began spinning again, he left off tilter, feelings sense of vertigo he hasn't felt since his parents were killed. But Batman stayed still, trying to keep calm, and keep his head..

"I'm on my way."

* * *

Jason awoke to pitch darkness, it was the first thing that he register in his hazy mind. The second was pain; his head felt as though it was slowly being split in two, his skull felt like it was on fire it hurt so much. He tried to move his legs but they seemed to be pinned down by something solid and crushingly heavy, as he couldn't feel one of them, he tried to move whatever was blocking his vision out of the way with his burning arms but it would move. It was stuck, he was stuck.

As his heart beat faster, a smell hit his nostrils. It filled his nose and seemed to make him pause out of confusion. Jason recognized the smell, it was wet soil combined with mud and wood. Just like—

He froze, eyes widening the pure utter terror leaked out of him. Trapped, he was trapped, all alone with no one to come help him. No one to save him from—

> _"What hurts more?"_

**Pain,**

**Throbbing agonizing pain.**

> _"A? Or B!? Forehand? Or backhand?"_

**Metal against flesh, bones breaking.**

That had been traumatizing, he still had nightmares from that day.

But this was worse...

 _This was so much worse,_ this was—

"BRUCE! BRUCE! H-Help! I—I can't... Can't see!"

**Claustrophobia, no air, no light.**

**A dark abyss.**

"B-Breathe, cal-calm down." He told himself, gasping out, his lungs stuttering.

**Banging, punching. Fingers scrapped against the silk fabric. Bloody nails ripped open wood. Dirt, mud.**

**Gagging him, choking him.**

"Ge—Get out. Got... To get out."

Bile filled his mouth as the memories that always haunted him in his sleep were now becoming reality again.

_No!_

_No, no no!_

_Not again, please!_

_Fucking not again!_

This was— Jason was in hell.

He truly was in his own pit of hell with no way out. A hellish nightmare he was never able to escape from. That never wanted to let him go.

He was going to die, again. Die alone and scared underneath the hard earth's soil.

Jason _screamed_.

He screamed until his throat was raw, screamed until his felt like it was bleeding from the strain. He clawed at the object that was preventing him from reaching the surface, he scrapped his nails a crossed it, so hard that even the fabric of his gloves tore and his nails were bloody and gone.

Tears fell down his cheeks as the panic set in and he screamed all the harder, knowing that panicking wasn't helping him, but he just couldn't stop. He sobbed and cried.

Cried out for his best friends; Roy and Kori. Cried out to his family, to Dick, to Tim, Carrie, Alfred, Babs, hoping— praying someone would dig him out, rescue him quick enough before...

But then in the red haze of terror there was someone... Someone else that the young man was forgetting.

> _"Good boy, Jason. You're a good boy, love. Don't worry, baby. Everything will be fine. I love you, that's all that counts."_

_Mom..._

Yes, his mother, not Sheila.

But Catherine Todd.

The woman who he remembered fondly of, she was such a kind soul, she loved him with all heart, the woman who was a wonderful person underneath all the drugs, she would say those words to him after each day when the world chewing him up and spitting him out, the words to make him smile again, to make him feel as though he mattered.

Jason remember her warmth whenever she hugged him, always kissing his temple as an added incentive. To make him smile. Jason found himself whimpering, heart aching, chest heaving, because _oh_ how he _missed_ her.

Missed her every time he looked down the streets of Gotham and saw people getting high, whenever he peered over the side of a building and watched the local kids playing with their mothers at Central Park. There was not a second that ticked by where he didn't miss her.

But there—

There was someone else who would say something similar to what his mother said.

Someone he saw as a _father_ , but it wasn't Willis. Someone who was affectionate and loving and genuine. All hugs and cuddles, and chaste kisses on the head, which some found ironic, seeing how much he brooded to others. A man that loved him for who he was and never judged him for his background, a man who fought so hard to rescue him at age seventeen, but was too late.

Someone who Jason had felt abandoned by, betrayed by. Only to finally understanding him.

> _"Don't listen to what those kids are saying about you, Jay. You're a good kid, son. You are loved, that is all that matters."_

_Bruce.._

Yes, it was Bruce.

The very man that took Jason in, the very man cared about Jason enough to adopt him before anyone else, that never saw him as a street kid, the man that was kind and his safe heaven. And Jason could always feel how much Bruce loved him just as much as his mother did. It was always the billionaire that spoke those words when a young Jason was feeling down from the kids at his school that Bruce enrolled him into.

Bruce always told him how much he cared, just like his mother did.

_Help me, save me, please, please. I'll be good. I don't wanna die again, I'm scared!_

_I'm so scared._

"BRUCE!"

Silence.

Jason sobbed pathetically, clawing at the wood. “B-BRUCE!" He cried out desperately but still nothing.

"Please... dad..."

Nothing changed. No movement above him 

Bruce wasn't coming, just like last time.

" _DAD!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love for the batkids calling Bruce dad. It fills me with such a joy. There just something so whole about him being called that by other then Damian. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this little chapter, positive feedback within comments down below if anyone has the time. They are always welcomed and appreciated down below and I will see you all next time.


	3. Chapter 3

It didn't take Bruce along to get into his batsuit, after countless years of putting it on, he maybe even faster then Barry when it came to this aspect. Slipping his cowl on over his head, he made his way over to the Batmobile. All the while trying to fight off the growing pit in his stomach, the voice of negativity that told him he was already too late, that his second oldest boy was dead and gone. That he had failed Jay just like before.

 _No._ He growled fiercely. _No, I won't fail him again, I'll save him._

"I'm home!" A familiar voice rang a crossed the cave, it was so full of cheerfulness and good nature that it stopped Bruce in his tracks, "Ah, patrol?"

Bruce shook his head and attempted to speak, to explain where they both were going, but didn't have the time because Dick cut him off with a small shrug, and a wave his hand. "Meh, I'll come with anyway." The young man said with a grin. And Bruce felt horrible for having to ruin his eldest son's obvious good mood with such bad news, but he needed to tell him.

Dick had a right to know.

"Dick... We need to get going— Tim called me moments ago, something's happened." Not mere seconds did those words pass his lips, Dick was there beside him, dressed fully in his Nightwing attire, the concern on his face was heart wrenching.

"Who is it?" He asked fearfully.

"Jason."

Dick flinched, and he already knew that his eldest was flashing back to that moment, he knew, because Bruce had done that himself already. He placed a stable hand on Dick's shoulder and squeezed gently. "He's not dead... But— It's why we need to hurry and get to the Bowery."

Dick nodded in understanding. "Tell me everything on the way."

And tell him Bruce did, he told his son about the man Jason was researching, he told him about the fight Red Hood, Robin and Red Robin got into with Hansel, about the bomb detonator and the explosion with Jason trapped inside. By the time he was finished, they had arrived at their destination and Dick was as white was a sheet.

Opening the hatch, he was about to tell Dick it was going to be okay, that was until he heard that first scream—

It was so raw, and heartbreaking, it sounded so wounded and terrified and it made Batman's blood freeze the first time he heard it. Jumping out of the Batmobile, he starts running towards the only collapsed building in the Bowery, the only one that still had small flames attached to pieces of wood.

Carrie saw him first and ran to him. "Boss!" She cried out and hugged him around the waist, she let out a muffled whimper against his kevlar covered stomach and Bruce had to close his eyes tightly to keep him breaking.

Tim came up behind his sister merely seconds later when another scream rang out, "He's— He's been doing that for 20 minutes, he won't _stop_." Tim looked as if his sanity was ready to fall apart at the seams, just hearing his brother in so much agony was causing him to lose it, his body shook violently but Bruce saw Dick move swiftly and held Tim by the shoulders, keeping him stable.

"BRUCE!"

The helpless cry was drowned out by the various amount of concrete, but they all still heard it. The Birds all stood frozen to the spot and looked to Bruce, hoping that their mentor and father would keep them from cracking. But Bruce wasn't fairing much better. All he could do was think back to that time and the pain he felt and Batman found himself unable to move, the memory and fear from it keep him rooted to the spot.

" _DAD_ –!"

And that was all it took, that one word, that declaration, that desperate pleading tone was all it took to snap him out of his haze, he ran forward and started moving, tossing, throwing large chunks of cement that was ten times his own weight away from where the broken screams were coming from. The process the movements, his motions as he dug and clawed his way to his son, were familiar. It was like his past, the moment he had done this all before with digging Jason out of the wreckage before, lifeless and broken seemed to mock him, _laugh at him_.

_Again_

He dug faster, his heart pounding a mile a minute with the overwhelming dread of what he might find once he unearthed his boy. "I'm coming!" Batman found himself calling out, trying to tell his boy that he was here this time.

And then all of a sudden the cries of despair from his son just... _stopped_ , and then there was nothing but silence, nothing but Bruce own heavy breathing and something deep in his chest dropped in that moment.

"Jay! I'm right here."

But there was no reply, no cry or plea of help,

_Nothing_

_Why_ was there silence!? 

Suddenly Dick appeared on his left and began pushing away more cement, while Tim appeared on his right along with Carrie.

Together, they all worked to free their wayward boy from his prison.

After a few more minutes of shoveling, What Bruce saw next almost made his heart freeze.

_Dear god—_

With Jason’s helmet missing amongst the other missing pieces of his clothing, Bruce was able to get a clear view of his son’s injuries. 

Jason’s legs were bent at an angle Bruce was sure they were indeed broken, gloves torn at the tips, nails gone, blooding flowing freely down the arms. It looked like Jason had tried, what he had successfully done before, digging himself out of the darkness the trapped him.

What scared Bruce the most were that Jason's eyes seemed to stare right through them. Like he couldn't see them, like he was seeing something they couldn't as the tears fell down his cheeks or maybe... maybe he couldn't—

Bruce felt nauseous, bile rose in the back of his throat at the thought of Jason, his boy being taken away from him once again. Reaching forward, he placed two fingers again Jason's neck searching for a pulse, and a choke noise left his throat when he found none.

It was as if living through the moments that terrified him the most had produced a strong autonomic response and induced a heart attack.

The knowledge alone shattered what was left of the Batman. All that was left now was the father that loved his children and who just lost his second, again.

_No..._

_Not again_

_Never again_

He _wasn't_ going to fail, he wasn't going to lose Jason a second time. Not now, not ever everything.

Taking out his shock gloves, the very same he modeled after the Electrocutioner, and began charged them to 3% and sent a current through Jason's body, willing him, beyond all the prays he was sending to whatever deity was listening. To give him his boy back.

_You took him away once. Don't you dare take him again_

He was vaguely aware of his other three children who in his haste to revive Jason moved out of the way and were cuddled close to one another. He wished he could comfort them. He would comfort them, after Jason had a pulse.

But after two minutes of chest compressions with no result. Bruce's determination began to waver and suddenly he felt like a child again, feeling the same exact pain he felt when his parents died and feeling the same exact intense agony when he first lost Jason.

" _Jaylad_ —" He whispered, eyes stinging without his say so. " _Son_..."

_Please, come back._

_We need you_

_**I** need you_

But the minutes stretched and nothing. They could take him to the hospital, and Leslie was out of town visiting extended family. They could do nothing but watch as Jason slipped through their fingers again.

Heart constricting to the point it might burst. Bruce raised on last fist into the air and slammed it against his son's chest. The electricity and sparks erupted from the gloves and went through Jason's outfit no doubt causing burns but soon fade just like the last few attempts.

Then Bruce, a father of four, the goddam Batman, bowed his head low, pressing it deep against his sons still, so very still chest and wept.

Distantly he heard the faint cries of his other three children. And he urged with that want to comfort them, but he was too consumed, to agonized to even think of moving away from Jason.

_I'm sorry... I'm sorry_

_I should have been here, gotten here faster, been better. I'm—_

He went ridged, head jerked up so fast he's bound to receive whiplash later but he could care less as he watched Jason, intently. Because he hadn't imagined it. He hadn't hallucinated it simply because he was in grief.

No, he—

Bruce felt against us forehead. A raise and fall.

"Jason?" He whispered, voice strung out and raw, but hopefully as the tears still fell down his face, soaking his cowl. " _Son_?"

He waited and watched as slowly, little by little he saw the raise and fall of Jason's chest grow deep until Jason jolted abruptly, so abruptly that Bruce thought for a terrifying moment his son was having a seizure or whiplash upon having just been revived from unprofessional Defibrillation.

Jason's body jerked upward into a sitting position and Bruce wasted no time in moving. Grabbing his son's shoulders and pulling him into a tight embrace. Partly to keep Jason from hurting himself and partly because... Bruce closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat... because he needed this.

Jason struggled weakly, his limps twitching and practically vibrating as he tried get away from whatever was encased around him. But Bruce ran a hand through the young man's hair, through the white streak that seemed to mock him, a reminder of all that his boy has gone through.

" _Shhh_ , Jason. It's alright, son. I'm here, I'm right here." He spoke soothingly. He placed his hand on Jason's cheek and rubbed his thumb a crossed the pale skin, he began to visibly see his son relax just a tad. The two of them stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity.

But finally, twenty minutes later, Jason spoke.

"B—?" He asked meekly, eyes still wide and filled with fear, still lost in that nightmarish abyss. “Bruce?”

"Yes, I'm right here." Bruce's voice was above a whisper as he still continued hold his boy and give Jason the safety he needed.

Jason stared at Bruce in disbelief. "You're here?" Those two little words almost made Bruce recoil as if he'd been stabbed. Jason seemed so surprised to see Batman here at all. Because the last time they were in this situation, he had already been too late to save him.

It hurt.

" _Bruce_.."

" _Here_. Right here, Jay."

It hurt more then either of them would ever admit. "You came...?"

A lump formed in his throat. His heart ached at the knowledge of Jason genuinely believing Bruce wasn't going to make it this time, just like before. Acid bubbled up from his stomach at the idea that Jason thought he was going to die again.

Scared and alone.

Bruce closed his eyes and swallowed past his dry throat _,_ past the bitter taste of vomit the eating to come. " _Yes_ , I'm here. You're going to be fine, son." Gently, he tightened his hold on his son, to show him he was here, that he was not alone or in any danger. And Jason's expression turned from surprise to utter emotional agony.

"I got you, Jay."

A sob escape Jason's lips as he buried his face in desperately into Bruce's kevlar. " _Bruce_..."

Bruce could do nothing but watch his son fall apart in pieces in front of him, as if he were a child again all those years ago when Jason, no older then 10 years old, would wake in the night screaming for his mother. Violently trembling, while Bruce held him to his chest as he gave a vivid description of finding her body laying on the bed, lifeless from an overdose.

But Bruce could tell that these cries were different. They were still filled with pain, and anguish, still so filled with fear. But there was also something more there, Jason sobbed because he was safe, because he was alive.

Bruce could feel Jason, digging his nail less fingers into his chest. While incoherent babbling slipped from his lips. "You're _here_... You— You've always been there f-for me— I'm sorry I wasn't the son you w-wanted, one you d-deserved. Willis was right. I'm such a fuck up, such a s-screw up. _I'm sorry_..."

Jason's words left Bruce feeling like the worst father in the world. Because none of that was true. Jason was part of his heart, all his children filled a space there. That made him feel whole. And Jason filled a space there that no one else could. Not Dick, or Tim, or Carrie. Because they had there own spaces. Jason's death nearly killed him and left him in a dark place for a long time, it had even strained his relationship with Dick because he couldn't comfort Dick like he knew he was suppose to.

" _Dad_..."

Bruce shut his eyes, fresh tears stung his eyes as they cascaded down his cheeks once more. He held Jason close, ripping off his glove and carding a hand through those red curls again. He didn't know if Jason was even registering his words but he didn't care. "No, Jay. Sweetheart _no_..." His own tumbled out without his say so, babbling just as much as Jason was. "You were everything I could have hoped for. The best thing to happened to me. You and your siblings? _Everything_ Jay, everything to me. Always. I'm sorry, _I'm sorry_. I should have been better for you, but I'm here. I love you, _I love you_."

" _Bruce_..."

"I love you. I'm here."

And he meant it.

Dear god, did he mean it.

He was in such a haze of pain, relief, guilt and heartache that he barely registered the three pairs of arms wrapping around him. Carrie buried her face in Jason's neck and let out small hiccups, while Tim embraced Jason's other side and leaned the side of his face against Jason's hair, his whole body still shaking.

And Dick, his energetic, caring Dick Grayson was able to wrap them all in an embrace as the first Robin tried so hard to be the strong one since no one else could at this moment.

Bruce was always proud of Dick, nothing could ever change that. But he felt such a warm swell of pride at his eldest for even though Dick was struggling currently to hold himself up that he still had the strength to hold him up, holding them all up when he, Bruce couldn't.

Jason eyelids drooped shut soon after that from exhaustion. So Bruce didn't know if Jason heard Dick's words when he muttered in a low, soothing voice.

"We're here for you, Jay."

 _Yes_ , Bruce couldn't agree more.

Yes, they certainly were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Jay, he managed to give himself such a panic attack from the PTSD he was going through that he ended up actually dying again for a couple seconds.
> 
> And Bruce was fairing no better. Having lost Jay multiple times already. Once to death and the other to anger, bitterness, miscommunication and different ideologies clashing. I’m a firm believer that Jason’s death nearly killed Bruce, it caused him such agony, and guilt that it even rivaled the death of his parents. 
> 
> Anywoo, a penny for you're thoughts? I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Positive feedback within comments down below if anyone has the time are welcomed and appreciated down below and I will see you all next time.


	4. Chapter 4

When the haze of sleep began to clear from his mind Jason didn't immediately open his eyes just yet as he would have normally done. No, instead he kept them close and just enjoyed the silence, enjoying the calmness and comfort he was feeling, soaking it all in greedily. For he never felt this peacefully content in his cheap apartment.

He hasn't felt this relaxed such a long time.

Finally, after spending three more minutes in this serenity, Jason inhaled one deep breathe before letting it out and opening his eyes.

As his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the early morning sun he realized that the room he was in was the guest room in Wayne Manor. I really shouldn't be surprised. He thought with a small scoff as he adjusted himself slightly only to gasp out when a jolt of pain shot through his entire body.

"Okay, _fuck_." He greeted his teeth, and clenched his fist. Jason remembered then why he felt so damn sore. 

_Fucking Hansel blowing up that damn building..._

Jason groaned, his fingers aching from where his nails had once been. Slowly though, he forced his upper body into a sitting position. He knows from personal experience that the longer he laid here the more sore his body was going to remain.

> _Physical exercise_
> 
> _Stretch out the muscles before they become too sore and you can't move them._

Bruce was nothing but persistent when it came to physical training them to learn the proper movements so their bodies didn't suffer later. Other hurts worse then a pulled or torn muscle. Except perhaps getting stabbed

> _Or acid spray_
> 
> _Or tortured_
> 
> _Or razor sharp croc teeth sinking into your leg_

Jason shook his head, getting back to the task at hand. Following Bruce's instructions, he tugged the blanket off him, and he wasn't surprised in the slightest to see his left leg was encased, from tip to knee, in a white solid cast.

 _Broken leg._ He noted going down the list.

His eyes traveled to his arms, bandages wrapped everywhere and smelled the familiar scent of alcohol, along with isopropyl myristate. _Burns, most likely second degree, treated with Silver sulfadiazine_.

Reaching up he felt one wrapped around his head too. _Concussion_ , _but a small one since no one seems to be around to wake me if it was something serious._ Flexing his fingers diligently, he could tell, could remember the sensation, the pain and after feeling sting, _Missing fingernails, all ten. From the feel of it._

 _Damn_ , he was the literal definition of picking a fight with an inanimate object and losing. Because that building royally fucked him up.

> _“But it could have been worse_.” 

He remembered Slade telling him that once, years ago, back when Jason had still been so very angry at Bruce and where Slade had, in a strange and twisted way, tried to act like a second father figure to him. But tried to do so by training him, making him use his anger as a weapon. 

But even back then, as angry as he was, he never let Deathroke get close. Because at his center Slade was a gun for hire, he had more agendas then Bruce. He knew better then to trust or let in that kind of person. 

Slowly, Jason inched his body onto side of the bed. Taking a deep breathe Jason placed his hand on the table and stood up. Immediately, he was hit with a wave of constant ache, every muscle, every vein in his body were practically screaming at the strain of simply _standing_.

But that didn't stop Jason from leaning himself against the wall with his right hand and moving towards the door, not nothing with the crutches that were propped up against his closest, likely for his use when he awake, probably place there by Alfred. But he paid the crutches no heed, Jason always said to Roy that he never needed a crutch, as long as there was a wall for him lean on then he was fine.

Even with a broken leg, he stubbornly refused to be enabled by crutches.

So Jason limped out into the hallway he realized with some surprise that he was the only one up in the entire Manor. Was he in a paradox? He ever was the first one up. Hell, Alfred was always the first one awake before any of them and yet here Jason is standing out in the middle of the hallway. With no Alfred or family in sight, soft snores filling the air.

He didn't know if he should call that a win or not.

Jason turned and looked down to the long staircase that lead downstairs. "Well, this should be fun." He said to himself, dryly. By the time Jason made it down the stairs and into the living room he was a panting, sweating mess.

"I'm outta practice... _dammit_." He gasped out swallowing, the lump in his throat.

_Okay— that's enough moving around for today.._

Jason threw himself onto the couch, the side of his cast hitting the coffee table as propped it on to it which caused him to wince, drawing in a sharp breathe to dull the noise of pain he let out through his teeth. Eventually the pain subsided and once he felt relaxed enough, Jason reached for the remote turned the TV on, he grinned to himself, _The Iron Giant_ played on the television for what seemed like the the thousandth time. 

The network _always_ played it on the weekend, for a reason Jason nor any of the rest of his family ever figured out. It happened so often that more then once occasion Jason threatened to blast the television if the channel didn't play something differently.

While he wasn't up for watching this movie again, he was far too tired to change it. Sinking into the couch, Jason let himself enjoy the peacefulness, the quietness that he never really gets all that often.

Soon though that calmness was interrupted by frantic footsteps coming down the staircase.

Within seconds, Alfred Pennyworth came running into the living room, looking positively frantic, the old man's eyes locked onto him immediately, "Master Jason!"

"What's wrong, Alfie?" Jason asked, he tilted his head to the side in question wondering why th the old man looked so frightened, why Alfred had looked as though he was about to have a heart attack.

Alfred straightened his posture and sighed. "Master Jason, just _what_ are you doing out of bed, sir?"

Ah so that's what it was. Alfred number one rule, to never leave the bed while injured. Jason grinned with a small chuckle. "I couldn't stay in bed anymore, Al. I got bored."

Alfred gave him a fond smile. "Yes, of course you did." He made his way over to Jason and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How are you feeling, Master Jason?" The butler asked the concern back in his old eyes as he gazed at the young man as he put a pillow under the twenty one year old's leg.

"I'm sore as all hell _but_ other then _that_ I'm okay." Jason replied truthfully, because there was no lying to Alfred. He was like a real life Santa Claus he knew everything. "I am starving, though." Jason couldn't help but laugh loudly when he saw the butler get a gleam in his eyes.

"Very well, Master Jason. I shall prepare your favorite breakfast dish."

His eyes lite up at the word breakfast, "Hash browns with cheese, scrambled eggs and bacon?"

Alfred nodded with a small smile on his face. "The very same, sir."

Jason's mouth watered, his favorite breakfast. "Al, you're a gift. What would we do without you?”

"I have often wonder that myself. Breakfast will be ready shortly."

He turned back to the TV and started channel flipping. A couple minutes later Jason heard the same frantic footsteps running coming down the staircase. "Jason!" He heard Tim call out before coming into the living room just as the butler had. He looked almost just as scared as Alfred had been a while ago.

"Hey Timbers." He greeted with wave of his bandaged hand.

Tim looked at him and said nothing for a few short seconds. " _Where_ are your crutches?" He asked.

"Don't need them."

Tim looked like he made to argue, but deflated seconds after, a simple nod and began standing there awkwardly as he looked down at the carpeted floor.

"Timmy." Jason said as he snapped his nail-less fingers to get his brother's attention. The boy looked up with a start, "You okay?"

Tim didn't seem to have anything serious in terms of injuries. A small nick just above the eyebrow, and a slip lower lip, sure. But Jason, thankfully didn't see anything life threatening, then his pulse spiked, when he remembered that Carrie had been in that fire with him. " _Shit_! Is Carrie okay?"

His brother nodded, holding up his hands in motion, as if to calm Jason down. "Yes, she's fine. A few scraps and some smoke inhalation, but she's fine. We're all fine."

Jason let out a sigh of relief, sagging back into the couch. "That's good." He took a moment to calm his racing heart and when he opened his eyes, Tim was still looking at him. "Okay, I've had enough. C'mere." and Jason motioned him forward. Tim obeyed and made his way over to the sofa and sat down. Even as they sat there, his little brother looked torn between wanting to stay and wanting to flea.

Jason knew what that was like. He also knew that fleeing wasn't _never_ good when it came to this family and their raw emotions. Running away from how they felt wasn't good on the psyche, especially their psyche. "What's going on?"

At first there was nothing. Nothing but silence as the grandfather clock ticked in the distance. Eventually, Tim bowed his head and laid it against Jason's own shoulder. "Jason... I'm sorry. This is my fault. _I'm so sorry_." His brother whispered as he grasped Jason's sleep shirt in his hands.

"Hey now, cut that out." He said his voice soothing as he hugged Tim, trying to attempt to calm his sensitive brother down. "What happened to me wasn't your fault."

"You were _dead_ , do you understand that? You died, Jay. _Again_."

The knowledge of that made Jason shiver but he hide it with humor as he gave Tim one of his signature smirks. "But I came back."

"Because Bruce brought you back to life. _With shock gloves._ "

Jason shrugged, "Point still stands, I've always been good at cheating death."

" _Jason_..."

Jason's smiled as he heard the chuckle in Tim's voice, "What? It's not my fault I'm a badass! I was able to walk down two flights of stairs with no crutches all on my own with a broken leg and looking like a mummy."

Tim scoffed looking at Jason as though he were crazy, "Yeah? And how do you feel?"

Jason thought about lying, but then he came to the conclusion that it would do no good. His poker face may be impeccable but Tim has always been able to see through it. So instead, he gave the truth. _"Everything hurts_ , Timbers. But it was worth it to get first dibs on the TV!"

His brother's face finally seemed to have that light back within it, as Tim laughed joyfully. "You're _impossible_."

Jason reached out and ruffled the teens black hair. "Love you too, bro."

Just then, three more voices could be heard from the upper part of the house.

"I believe that would be Master Bruce, Master Dick and Miss Carrie." Alfred announced as he appeared out of no where and almost made Jason jump out of his skin. Alfred walked out into the hall and Jason heard him speaking with Bruce, Dick and Carrie. A couple second later, they all but ran into the living room, looking concerned and frantic as much as Tim had.

Dick practically threw himself forward, towards them. Somehow managing to maneuver his way behind Jason and proceeded to curl his arms around him, pulling him to his chest, "Jay, what are you doing out of bed!?"

Carrie came barreling in his direction too, tears in her eyes as she hugged his front. " _Jay_!"

Jason petted her red hair and rubbed her back. "Hey, Car. Glad you okay, kiddo!” 

Carrie clung to him and Jason had to suppress a grunt of pain for she was squeezing him far too tight then his body was able to handle. But he forced that down too when he felt her shaking against "Aw, Car Bear. Please, don't beat yourself up over this."

But Carrie looked to not have heard him, burying her face into his chest and letting out a muffled whimper. "If I hadn't chased after Hansel..."

Jason let out a small sad sigh.

What is it with him and his siblings putting unnecessary blame on themselves. They had enough trauma and PTSD as it was, they really didn't need to and more guilt to the pile that was already as high as a mountain. Pulling her back just enough to look Carrie in the eyes, he smiled. "Now you listen to me, missy. Cause I'm only gonna say this once."

Carrie let out a small sniff but nodded and Jason continued, "Good. Now I told this to Timmy and I'm telling this to you. _Nothing_ that happened that night was your fault."

"No, it was mine."

Dick's arms tightened around him, pulling him even closer, as he pressed the side of his cheek into Jason's temple. And Jason wasn't surprise to feel a wetness on the edge of Dick's cheek. "Little Wing— _Jason_ , I'm so _so_ sorry. If I hadn't asked you to watch Tim and Carrie in my place then..." Dick was trembling, his shoulders wracked with violent tremors as he left Jason close his chest.

The guilt Dick carried was slowly but surely eating his big brother alive. And Jason wasn't gonna allow it to continue. "I'm stoppin' you right there, Dickie. This wasn't your fault either." Jason retorted as he pushed Dick away from to look him in the eyes. " _This_?" He gestured towards his injuries. "Is _nothing_ but my own shit luck. I don't blame any of you for what happened. Get that through your thick skulls."

Was his words harsh, maybe. But sometimes you got to be harsh to get your words a crossed.

"Jason's right." A deep voice spoke out, a hand lay on his shoulder and Jason looked up to see Bruce standing right behind him now. "No one but Hansel Muknar deserves the blame for what happened."

Jason scoffed, a smirk on his face. "Hey, old man."

Bruce returned it without a sound, his hand rose up and ran through the white tuff in his hair and Jason couldn't help but lean into it as the memories of flashed him back there, being saved by his father, being held by his father, held by his siblings being comforted and loved, something he's wanted so badly for years warm his heart.

"Hello son."

Thanks to Bruce, he was alive.

A cough interrupted them all. Five heads turned to their butler who was looking at them all with a smile. "Breakfast is ready. Do come before it gets cold."

"We'll be right there, Alfred" Bruce let his hand fall away from Jason's face, before straightening up. "Dick? Why don't take Tim and Carrie to the kitchen. I need to talk Jason."

Jason watched Dick blinked in surprise at the gentle command but then a look of understanding seemed to cross his face, he smiled gently and nodded, and dramatically, he picked Tim and Carrie up and tossed them over his shoulders, walking out of the room.

Then it was just him and Bruce.

Suddenly the air felt different. It felt tense, like he was about to get a lecture any second now. Jason picked at his nail less fingers, now very nervous as he watched Bruce sit down on the couch next to him.

Was he... was he _actually_ gonna get lectured? For what? The only thing he did wrong was going after Muknar when it was suppose to be a recon mission.

Was he—

Was Bruce gonna _fire_ him?

 _No, no.._. he wouldn't do that. 

Sure, the Red Hood was still known as a criminal to some people of Gotham, but Jason made it his own. He stopped killing and has been slowly getting the help he needed into getting better.

Bruce wouldn't take that away from him?

Would he?

But then he remembered that Bruce had taken the Robin title away from Dick. And that did _nothing_ to help with his anxiety.

He watched Bruce move out of his peripherals and before Jason could even think of flinching away, speaking abruptly, apologizing profusely for his actions. He was wrapped in a strong but gentle embrace.

The scent of Amouage cologne and a hint of wet asphalt filled his nostrils and immediately Jason felt a wave of calm wash over him and he felt safe. _Warm_ and loved

So loved

He hadn't realized he had closed his eyes, had lost himself in moment, until he felt Bruce's entire frame begin to shake.

_Shit_

"Bruce?"

Was he?

Jason felt liquid telltale sign of a dampness growing on his shirt. And holy shit, he hasn't seen Bruce cry since well... _ever_.

But that's exactly what was happening.

He remember Tim's words then.

> _"You were dead, do you understand that? You died, Jay. **Again**."_

And that Bruce had brought him back with electroshock defibrillation. He had died again, meaning his heart stopped, meaning that Bruce had knelt there for god knows how long. Repeatedly using those gloves to bring him back.

Meaning that Bruce had suffered, mentally, emotionally and physically. Just as Jason had.

Meaning that Bruce was still so very scared shitless. "Jay..." Bruce murmured, tucking Jason's head into the croak of his neck, holding him, if it was even possible even tightly closer to his chest, protectively. " _Jason_."

He felt Bruce's chest give out a violent hitch and it was like that was what broke Jason's resolve on his emotions.

The knowledge that Bruce —someone who raised him and cared for him, actually _still did_ love and care for him even after all the shit he's done as Red Hood— was crying, practically sobbing as he held him almost in the man's lap, as the very likely memory of holding Jason, dead in his arms once again, flashed there. Was enough for Jason's own to swell up and cascade down his cheeks.

Curling his arms around Bruce's waist, Jason dig what he could of his fingers into the fabric of the older man's robe, buried his face into Bruce's shoulder and hung on, clung to his dad to keep from drowning.

Because that's what he always felt like.

" _Bruce_..."

Bruce let out a low sniffle and curled his arms around him tighter, like a snake as he pressed his cheek against the side of Jason's face. "I got you."

Bruce seemed to be attempting to be strong. As the adult, the parent, he was trying to be strong for Jason’s sake, let Jay cry out all his fears and pain over what happened, while Bruce kept it together like he has always done. That looked to be Bruce’s plan. But then there was a moment, not even a second for Jason could feel Bruce almost internally say _'fuck it'_ and decided to throw that out the metaphorical window.

"God... I almost lost you." Bruce's voice stuttered, hitched along with tremor that started at his shoulders and traveled down his spine. “I _did_ lose you. And it scared me to death.” 

Watching Bruce break down like this, it hurt. It hurt more then Jason would ever be able to describe, and after all the years Bruce had comforted him, before and after his death, he felt obligated, felt responsible to do the same. "I'm right here, Bruce."

"You _weren't_ , you were _gone_ and I... I _couldn't_ —!" Another hitch, another shutter. And Jason could do nothing but remain there, witnessing it all. "Jay, the seconds, the _minutes_ you were gone. I was back _there_ again. Feeling those same emotions." Bruce pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, reaching up and cupping Jason's face in his hands, "And I couldn't _breathe_." Lower lip trembled, into a soft but broken smile, tears continuing to fall. "I couldn't do anything..."

Jason blinked, when Bruce leaned forward and placed his forehead against his. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry it took me so long to have this conversation with you. That you and I just never talked about it. That I never pushed you to _want_ to talk about it. But I love you, son. I'm _so_ sorry I wasn't the father you deserved, the one you _needed_ after all the pain you've endured..."

> " _I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I should have been better for you, but I'm here. I love you, I love you."_
> 
> _"I'm sorry I wasn't the son you w-wanted, one you d-deserved. Willis was right. I'm such a fuck up, such a s-screw up. I'm sorry..._ "

Bruce was right.

It seems like they were always apologizing to each other. Bruce, for failing him, not being the father like he feels Jason's deserved. And Jason, for all the shit he did as a anti hero, killing criminals at a drop of a pin, for never being the son that Bruce deserved, for not being like Dick.

They were always out right ignoring the problem, the elephant in the room, pretending it didn't happen because it hurt to much to think about, never was given the right opportunity to talk about not find the right words to say.

He was so tired to feeling this way, of beating around the bush because it was uncomfortable for both of them to remember and discuss it.

Reaching up, Jason grasped Bruce upper arms and and closed his eyes, swallowing down the lump in his throat. "It's okay. Bruce." Because it was, they'd done this dance for the past couple years. "I should have been better back then. I was so angry and hurt at the life and the foundation that failed me and saw me as trash and I took out on you and everyone else,"

Bruce, even through Jason's closed eyes, looked like he desperately wanted to say something, to argue. But Jason merely shushed him. "And cause of that I risked having... of _wanting_ another mother, _a loving parent_ because I felt so fucking cheated out of the one I already _had_ that by the time I realized that Catherine had been enough— That _you'd_ been enough. It was already too late." Jason swallowed, heart feeling lighter then it has been in years it still retaining that ache.

"And then I was dead," They both flinched, the memory painful, agonizing. "And then I got a second chance and I wasted it cause I was still so fucking angry but it was so much worse and I took it out on you and everyone else." Jason pulled away and look at Bruce's expression. He looked like he aged ten years just sitting here with him, mourning, expressing his feeling of almost losing Jason again. "I know that this isn't gonna be the last time we say this to each other but for right now— _I'm sorry,_ I'm sorry I've caused you so much fucking pain. I could’ve been better to you and everyone, when I came back, but I wasn't. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life being better, being the man that my mom saw in me and the person _my dad_ sees in me."

" _Jason_..."

And if Jason was that type of person, he'd of laughed at the shocked expression on Bruce's face. The way he just _blinked_ at Jason, like he was seeing him for the first time, hearing his words past his own pain and guilt. He would have laughed, but he didn't. Wrong time, wrong conversation.

"I love you too, old man."

There was a split second of hesitation, on Bruce's part, still in shock from Jason's words. But then something shattered and Bruce was yanking Jason back into his arms. Holding him close and rocking them back and forth.

This time, he did let out the softest of chuckles, that turned into a choked sob. "Such a softy." His shoulders trembled, his entire body and mind felt exposed, vulnerable, like a nerve or an open wound that never truly healed. He felt free for the first time in years.

"I'm sorry." Bruce sounded so old as he whispered this, so old and tired and broken with guilt. "I casted you away, shunned you because your ideals differed from my own, I never stopped to even think _why_ , you were just lost, and destroyed and I locked you away because you were so different from the boy I raised, that I loved. _I mourned you_. But I also mourned the person you became, told myself that you lost gone forever to cope with the pain that I hadn't feel since my..." Another shutter, another hitched breathe that made Jason's heart ache. "I shouldn't have done that, I never should have done that to you when all you ever wanted was for me to understand. And I'm sorry, I never did."

Bruce was missing the point of this whole conversation, still wrapped up in his guilt. But it was okay. His mother always did say it was harder for parents to forgive their own wrongdoings when it came to their children, knowing they are suppose to their child up, protect them. And feeling all the more like a failure when they aren't around to catch them when they fall.

But if it helped Bruce feel the slightest bit better, then Jason would give Bruce what he wanted, even if it's not something he thinks he deserves, "I forgive you." He said it even though he knew he didn't have too. He forgave Bruce along time ago. "Can you forgive me for all that I've done?"

Bruce carded a hand through his hair and let out a sharp exhale, "There's _nothing_ to forgive, Jay. You were lost, and I should have understood that. And... as a father, I _want_ to say that you've done nothing wrong _but_ we both should have been better. Tried harder."

"Maybe..." Jason pressed his mouth into a line, thinking, hoping beyond hope that it was possible. "Now that we've breached _this—_ crossed that side and met in the middle, that maybe we could be?"

For the first time, Bruce let out a laugh, sounding more like drawn out sobs then anything, " _Yes_ , yes. I'd like that very much."

They stayed like that for what seemed like hours, only parting, rather reluctantly so, once Jason's stomach let out a particular loud grumble. Since Jason still was stubbornly refusing his crutches, Bruce helped him to the kitchen, and while he would have bitched and moaned to his siblings about needing help. He found that he didn't mind at all when it came to Bruce.

Jason was thankful when no one bothered to ask what had taken them so long. Nor did they comment on his or Bruce's red rimmed eyes as they all sat down and began eating.

After breakfast was devoured Tim suggested they all take a movie day after what they all went through and began flipping through the channels of the television. Leaning his head back against the couch, Jason listened to Tim complain why the network kept showing _The Iron Giant_ without any breaks or shows in between as per usual, while Dick and Carrie bickered on what movie to watch.

Jason's eyes began to droop shut as the exertion from earlier, his breakdown he and Bruce shared finally was catching up with him as his head lolled to the side.

He felt an arm wrap around his shoulder and pull him to the side. He cracked his eyes open to see Bruce holding him close. Maybe it was the fact that he was tired, or that he was still so very sore, or maybe that he's just more sensitive then he leads people to believe he is, but for whatever reason Jason buries his face into his father's shoulder. Causing Bruce to pulled that much closer.

"Bruce?" He whispered as his mind began to feel hazy with sleep. "Dad?"

"Hm?"

"You're the best thing that happened to me too."

Bruce's eyes, filled to the brim with fondness, love and looked like he might start crying again. Then a chaste kiss fell on the top of his head. "I love you, Jaylad." His father murmured, spoke these words with sincerity and truth. "We're going to be okay."

 _Yes_ , Jason thought, a soft smile forming on his eyes as he curled up into Bruce's solid but gentle hold. _Finally after all this time,_ Jason believed they would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are at the end. I honestly have no words to really say how happy I am that people have enjoyed this story so much. I know it’s nothing to groundbreaking or deep. Just Jason getting a dose of PTSD, plus death and Bruce being near catatonic at the thought of losing him again. 
> 
> But I still have such a fondness for this fic, considering that I very much enjoy this rewritten version over the one I have yet to update over on Fanfiction (god that one is so cringe. It’s awful) and I just wanted to share it with the people over on AO3 for those who happened to stumble upon it. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you all enjoy this little story I spiced up a bit. Feedback, as always, are always welcomed and appreciated down below and I will see you all later..

**Author's Note:**

> Jason, like always, is having a bad day. 
> 
> And if you think that what Dick did, asking Jay to watch Tim and Carrie is unrealistic of him, know that is actually a thing that older siblings have done in the past and I can imagine Dick just needing a break from his siblings to just, go on a peaceful date with Babs without having to worry about them. 
> 
> Also some of you are probably wondering why I used Carrie instead of Damian? Well the simple answer is. While I don’t hate Damian as much as I use to, depending on how he’s written. I feel like Carrie doesn’t get the love she deserves either. And therefore I decided to use her instead of Damian. 
> 
> Anywoo, a penny for you're thoughts? I hope you all enjoy this little random story, positive feedback within comments down below if anyone has the time. They are always welcomed and appreciated down below and I will see you all next time.


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